


“Every single decision we make, every breath we draw, opens some doors and closes many others. Most of them we don't notice. Some we do.”

by notjustmom



Series: Towel Day 2018 [29]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Douglas Adams, First Kiss, M/M, Towel Day 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 21:44:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15010082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: mostly fluff...





	1. Chapter 1

So many moments brought him to this particular one, Sherlock considered. He should keep his eyes open, he wanted to see what John's face looked like when - but then John's fingers pushed lightly through his curls, the ones he had forgotten to put hair product in before they had left the flat that morning, as Lestrade had texted about a '9', of course, it had in reality, been merely a '4.5' at the most, and his eyes shut tightly as he felt John's breath against his lips before he pressed his own, cautiously against them, as if he were asking for permission...

Back up, rewind the tape, or whatever it is now -

He hadn't even wanted to get up that morning, what, now six months ago, was it? If he thought hard enough - thinking was becoming increasingly more difficult, though, as John pressed closer against him, and let one hand drift from his hair, move across his shoulder, down his arm - goosebumps - oh damn - 

Right. Six months ago.

It wasn't technically depression, perhaps just a deep funk. He knew he was pushing even Mrs. Hudson's patience with the constant moping, but January - he positively loathed January. Always had. Perhaps it was the cold, or post-holiday blues, even though he didn't acknowledge the holidays, and he had always thought of resolutions as poppycock. Either you were going to change or not, it shouldn't matter what day of the year it was -

Oh. What - he really should open his eyes, now. He felt his knees buckle, and hoped someone was going to catch him - John.

He had finally managed to drag himself off the couch, showered and dressed, and for some reason decided to spend some time on his hair, he wasn't sure why he had bothered that day, but he had. He put on his shoes, even though Mrs. Hudson told him he should wear his boots, "it is nasty out there, dear..." He had shrugged her off, as he tied his scarf on and threw on his coat, kissed her offered cheek as he pulled on his gloves, then made his way down the steps. Of course she was right, she always was. Honestly, some days it was too -

How? How did he - focus. Breathe. Everything was suddenly too hot, too much - and he wanted - his fingers held on tightly to John's arms, and he was finally able to open his eyes.

"There you are."

Somehow he managed to nod, and John smiled at him, in a way that made his dark blue eyes - what shade were they - indigo, but - no - gold flecks he hadn't ever seen before, they had been there, of course, he just hadn't been this close before... oh.

He had made it into the lab, hung up his coat, and remembered there was that case - a paint sample he needed to check. And then, Mike, how did Mike put up with him? Mike walked in with -

"John." There. A word. Words still worked. His brain came back online slowly, and every single moment that came before seemed to vanish as John asked him without a word if he could proceed. He nodded and with a wink, John began to slowly undo his buttons.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's POV...

He didn't know why he chose this exact moment to summon every last bit of courage he possessed to gently nudge Sherlock against the door until he heard the latch click, then push his trembling fingers into the curls he had been dreaming of for the last six months, all he knew was that needed to know what those raven curls felt like, right then. He wasn't afraid anymore. Afraid of not being enough, afraid that Sherlock would reject him, he just needed to know one way or the other, and he breathed out a sigh of relief as Sherlock's eyes slowly closed and his lips slightly parted, inviting him -

That morning, so long ago it seemed now - he had sat down at his desk, opened the drawer, and stared at the gun that laid there for a few seconds, then slammed it shut, arguing with himself, mentally making a list of pros and cons - opened his laptop to stare at a blank screen, and closed it shut again.

His lips - softer than he had imagined, parted even more as he let his hand explore, down the long neck, over his shoulder, and down his arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he went -

He had forced himself to eat the apple, then showered, and dressed. He grabbed his stick, determined to walk to the park, then come back, come back and - what? So he walked, and was about to ignore that voice, the voice he had known once, back when he was - back when he was John Watson - back when he...

He caught Sherlock in his arms as he felt him begin to crumple, both of them struggling to catch their breath, and he realised all he wanted to do was breathe next to this wild, brilliant, gorgeous man for the rest of his life.

"There you are."

Sherlock nodded, and finally lifted his eyes to meet his gaze. Silver. He had never seen anyone's eyes turn silver with want before -

He had followed Mike into the lab, simply because he had nothing better to do, nothing but to return to his bedsit and stare at a blank screen, and there he was, looking into a microscope, his profile of dark curls, long lashes and cheekbones - and then he spoke.

"John." He watched as Sherlock took a shuddering breath, and refocused, then nodded in response to every question John had ever wanted to ask. He found himself winking, he wasn't sure why he winked, perhaps it was just a memory of Sherlock's exit that morning - the wink and half smile that bound John to him from that moment on. He took a deep breath and began to undo Sherlock's buttons, one by one.


End file.
